


It's The Thought That Counts

by flowersheep



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersheep/pseuds/flowersheep
Summary: It wouldn't be Christmas without spiked eggnog and the twins doing something to take at least ten more seconds of Hiccup's life that he'll never get back.
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	It's The Thought That Counts

**Author's Note:**

> I started out the month with plans of writing many holiday themed fics which means this is the only fic I wrote lmao

"You spiked the eggnog?" Hiccup doesn't think he's ever felt this particular brand of cold panic as Ruffnut proudly tells him her plan for getting everyone absolutely shitfaced at this year's annual christmas party.

"I mean, what else was it there for?" Ruffnut asks. "No one drinks plain eggnog."

"I do," Hiccup says absently, desperately scanning the room for his wife. Ruffnut wrinkles her nose.

"Gross. Anyway, you'll thank me for this, H."

"What, when your brother is puking all over my bathroom again?" This is it. The last straw. He's never hosting another Christmas party again. The memory of walking into the bathroom to find Tuffnut naked in the tub is forever burned into Hiccup's mind, as is the pools of puke on the floor.

"Where was he supposed to throw up, in that ugly potted plant you guys finally got rid of?"

"Or in the toilet?"

"Tuff's never had good aim when it comes to toilets."

"Really not something I needed to know right now." Ah ha, there's Astrid. She's standing by the fireplace, chatting with Heather, hands blessedly empty of any drinks. Particularly the eggnog. The wine and the liquor is easy enough to stay away from, but the eggnog? That would not bode well. Ruffnut is going on about some story revolving around her brother's potty training when they were toddlers and Hiccup is just starting to relax when Dagur appears at Astrid's side. 

Offering a glass. 

Of eggnog.

"Excuse me Ruffnut," Hiccup says and dives across the room. He vaults over the back of the couch, bangs his shin on the coffee table, swears loudly and violently, and finally manages to reach Astrid just as she's about to take a sip. "Don't drink that!" Hiccup grabs the glass and some of the eggnog sloshes out.

"Hiccup, what the fuck!" Astrid exclaims, just barely managing to avoid getting eggnog on her feet.

"Don't-don't drink the eggnog," Hiccup says.

"Why can't she drink the eggnog?" Heather asks. Hiccup glances at her and then finally notices that the rest of the room has gone silent and is staring at him with varying forms of concern. Aside from his wife, who is glaring at him as she waits for an explanation.

"Um." Hiccup panics again, thinking about the very long talk they had about when they would be ready to tell everyone. Astrid had decided it definitely wasn't over the holidays. But that had probably gone out the window, thanks to Ruffnut and her unending desire to see them all get shit faced at parties.

"Yeah, Hiccup, why can't Astrid have any of the eggnog?" Ruffnut asks. Hiccup glances at her, then back at his wife. He leans in, hoping to minimize the amount of shit he's currently in.

"Ruffnut spiked it," Hiccup whispers. Astrid goes stiff, her irritation melting away to be replaced with the delayed fear of realizing what had almost happened.

"Oh. Shit. Okay, then," she says. She relaxes and her eyebrows go up in a way that clearly communicates, 'Way to blow the secret honey.'

"Are you just not gonna answer my question, H?" Ruffnut demands. Right at that moment Snotlout walks out of the kitchen.

"Hey, I think someone spiked the eggnog," he announces. "Tastes funny."

Ruffnut throws her hands up in the air. "Damn it Snotlout!"

"Figures," Fishlegs comments, rolling his eyes. He glances at the glass he's holding, then shrugs and downs it.

"Not like we're not gonna keep drinking it anyway," Snotlout says.

"It's more fun when it's a surprise!" Ruffnut complains. She crosses her arms, bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

"Wait, wait, wait," Heather says. She eyes Hiccup and Astrid. "What does Ruffnut spiking the eggnog- which we all saw coming-"

"Fuck off Heather," Ruffnut grumbles.

"What does that have to do with Astrid not being able to have any?"

"Maybe I'm lactose intolerant," Astrid says.

"Seems unlikely considering I've seen you eat an entire tub of ice cream," Dagur points out. Astrid elbows him, then turns an expectant look on Hiccup. 'Your dramatic ass caused this so your dramatic ass better fix this,' her gaze communicates. Hiccup runs a hand through his hair.

"Um, so, you see." He searches desperately for an excuse. "The thing is. Um."

"Oh my god!" Ruffnut, ire over her plan revealed forgotten now, is staring at them with wide eyes and a slowly widening smile of delight. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! You all thought I was crazy, but I was right!"

"Right about what?" Fishlegs asks. Astrid closes her eyes for a moment in pained anticipation. Hiccup starts silently coming up with ways to make it up to her.

"Astrid's pregnant!" Ruffnut practically shrieks, throws herself across the room, and hugs Astrid tight. Astrid sighs, resigned. Snotlout snorts.

"Yeah, right, no she's not." He pauses and takes in Hiccup and Astrid's expressions. "Wait, are you, Astrid?"

"What I am, is going to murder my husband," Astrid says.

"Well, it was nice knowing you all," Hiccup says, takes the glass out of Astrid's hand, and downs it all. She'll get over it. An hour, at most, and she'll stop being angry. Until then though he takes a calculated step away from his wife, just out of reach.

"No, but seriously," Fishlegs chimes in, "are you pregnant?"

Astrid sighs and admits, "Yes. Six weeks. Which is why-" Fishlegs squeals and throws himself at Ruffnut and Astrid, nearly knocking them over. "God damn it, Fishlegs. Anyway, I'm only six weeks, which is why I wasn't planning on saying anything yet. And then Ruffnut had to go and spike the eggnog and make my overly dramatic husband panic."

"I'm not overly dramatic," Hiccup said. "I'm the perfect amount of dramatic." Astrid frees up a hand so she can flip him off. The rest of their friends gather around, all offering enthusiastic congratulations. Snotlout, clearly already having had quite a bit of the eggnog, tears up a bit.

"What're you guys doing?"

Everyone turns to the staircase to find Tuffnut standing at the base. A sense of dread fills Hiccup.

"What were you doing up there?" he asks.

Tuffnut shrugs. "Don't worry about it."

Hiccup pinches the bridge of his nose. "I feel like I really should, but I won't right now."

"Exactly. So, same question, what are you guys doing?"

"Astrid's pregnant!" Ruffnut exclaims.

"Oh." Tuffnut saunters over and offers his hand. Bemused, Astrid shakes it. "Congrats."

"Uh, thanks," Astrid says. Then she looks at Hiccup and smiles, exasperated in a soft and fond way that still makes Hiccup's stomach do somersaults. It's way too early to be telling anyone and they haven't even told either of their parents yet, but at the same time it feels fitting. They've been through a lot with their friends over the years. It feels right to share this with all of them as they celebrate the holidays.

"Now, let's talk names," Tuffnut says, slinging an arm over Astrid's shoulder in a way that used to get him flipped onto the coffee table. "I'm thinking something ending in nut…"

Snotlout scoffs. “It’s not gonna be a Thorston, you idiot. Obviously they need to go with something ending in lout. Or beginning with snot. Or both.”

Hiccup shakes his head as his friends all start arguing over baby names. He meets Astrid’s eyes over Ruffnut’s shoulder and knows immediately that none of the naming advice being tossed out is going to be put to use, but that’s okay. As with most things around the holidays, it’s the thought that counts.


End file.
